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nerdpoe · 8 months

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Damian's online friend is sleeping over at Wayne Manor, and its going great.

Well, until he dies.

They had all gone down to "sleep", which meant that they had Daniel go to sleep while everyone went out on patrol.

Upon returning, Damian checked on Daniel.

Just to make sure that his Grandfather had not sent any assassins that had taken advantage of Damian's weakness in friendships, of course.

Daniel isn't breathing.

When Damian goes to check his pulse, it isn't there.

Damian storms out of the room on a warpath; he would find who had killed his friend and he would make them pay.

Danny wakes up six hours later on a metal slab in a secret underground lair with one Leslie Thompkins hovering over him with a scalpel.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #story prompt #phanfic #personally i think danny and damian would get along #canonically danny is a little shit who likes to deliberately antagonize people #damian is a little shit who loves to antagonize people as well and would absolutely feed on this #together it's hell for everyone else #they gossip and push ALL the buttons #but danny pulls damian back from taking things a bit too far #so now damian is convinced some rando assassin just killed one of his two best friends #jon is fine he lives with clark #damian isn't worried about that beyond how he'll tell jon #but atm damian has to convert his grief into rage

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puppetmaster13u · 3 months

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Prompt 210

The battle had been long. Long and destructive, power rolling from both combatants as they launched at each other and tore through armor and flesh alike.

Islands fell from the skies with every clash, swaths of utter annihilation following as they fought long after their armies had finished. Wings swept great gales of wind that shadows raced to block, fire meeting fire and claws meeting blade as two beasts brawled.

Finess was no longer a thing needed- this was all about who could last longer now. One who fought for itself, for its legacy of tyranny, and another who fought together, as one.

The battle was long, no one quite sure how long but enough to be called as such. It could have been hours, it could have been days, it could have even been centuries in this mauling of what was and what could be.

And finally, the One-That-Was-Many rose victorious over the king before it, dead once more at its talons, wings spread to usher in a new era for the realms.

Or at least, that was how the tale went, according to Marvel. Even he wasn’t sure what parts of it were true or simply legend, but it was an interesting story all the same. It kept the kids entertained at least, and caught the others attention so there was that.

#DCxDP #DPxDC #Prompts #The Class Pulls a Tiamat #Why let there be a Ghost King when they can split it between the nine of them #Dora helped them a lot in the beginning in getting used to battling in the form of a hydra #Clockwork helped with figuring out how to do things with a hivemind of sorts #Pandora helped them train in using multiple arms in their humanoid fusion form #Frostbite made sure they stayed healthy and didn’t push themselves with Nocturne’s help #I need yall to know that they give off galaxy vibes in both forms #The zetas were shut down so people decided to start telling stories & mythology came up at some point #Billy likes to read the books in the Rock of Eternity & found the story there #Jordan & Ellie are the prince & princess of the Infinite Realms & are learning how to do the whole Fusion deal #I say this to give people the most amount of things to be able to use this prompt for #Does this count as Ghost King Danny?#Fuck it this is now a shared monarchy via this loophole of them sharing a body when defeating Pariah

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angelicartemis · 5 months

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MORE SPRING BONNIE‼️‼️‼️

This actually took me way too long to finish because for some reason a lot of things like to reel me in and keep me occupied from doing any art whatsoever! 😁 I love it!! (I am being sarcastic)

These were drawn in aggie again because I seriously can't get enough of the pencil/pixel brush there, it's genuinely so yummy. <3

Sorry for the weird positioning btw, but I really don't want to move anything around so this is what y'all are getting :'DDD

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magnusbae · 20 hours

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Hi! What about "Can you stay with me?" (and if you'd like it my bonus prompt is "drunk") 💗

The initial draft was written while I was quite literally fainting late at night & the second one fully rewritten while I am dazed and out of it. I would say that I was method writing Obi-Wan who is indeed very much drunk in this one, dearest anon. Thank you for the prompt~ 😊💖

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Obikin || 4,004w || Drunk Obi-Wan is agonized by the prospect of his freshly knighted Padawan leaving him behind— and more. 😌 Some flavors of gentle lime in this drink, very light, very sweet. 🍋💖

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"Can you stay with me?"

Obi-Wan Kenobi sounds properly pathetic and he knows it. Grasping at Anakin’s Tabards as he is, mind swirling in hazy circles around the notion he was doing his very best to avoid thinking about for the past few months. It is not long now that Anakin would look at his Master and see him for what he really was. Perhaps even today. Inebriated as he is, he makes for a good serving of disillusionment. All Anakin needs to do is look, and see, and then…

It seems inevitable—his Padawan will leave.

Former Padawan. Anakin is no longer his Padawan, and that is the heart of it, isn’t it? The severed braid was the firs step. Them having each a battalion of their own, stationed light years away from each other with only the occasional joint mission, a second. The third and final step would be for Anakin to finally open his eyes and look, and see.

It won’t be hard to unveil the carefully crafted Jedi Master facade Obi-Wan had cultivated for the past decade. No, it won’t be hard at all. If Anakin were to stop glorifying him, stop shaping him to be what ever form of idol he had needed for while growing up, if only he were to take an unbiased look at him…

There will no longer be, Kenobi and Skywalker.

For the naked truth was, Anakin had outgrown him, had become more powerful and capable than his Master. There’s little left that Obi-Wan could still offer, still teach. He should be proud. The only one still refusing to see it, is Anakin himself. Once that revelation comes to pass however, it will be complete. A true break, as befitting the Jedi way. Obi-Wan finds no peace in the thought, no completion nor satisfaction in the successful completion of his Padawan’s training—a symbol of his own Mastery.

Not when it means losing him. Not then.

Given his state of drunkenness, words slurred and feet unsteady, he thinks that it’s worth putting to question whatever or not he was a good Jedi at all, least of all a Master. Try as he might, he finds it hard to ponder further. His choice to look inward is as always an avoidance, an escape. An easy detour from looking outward, from looking at Anakin. Anakin who’s eyes he can feel like a physical touch, boring into his very soul.

Obi-Wan’s avoidance is nearly as strong as Anakin’s natural magnetism. One is counseling him to avoid looking, save himself the pain of witnessing the exact moment in which the realization dawns upon the boy. The second, stronger still, demands his undivided attention on him, demands him to look. Demands him.

Obi-Wan looks up, he meets those eyes, his demise.

Anakin’s eyes widen and he blinks, endless blue clearing as if coming out of some sort of shock.

“Can I—” Anakin splutters “—Obi-Wan, even if the council explicitly ordered me to go save the entire karkin universe just now, I wouldn’t be leaving your side— stars you’ve any idea what you look like right now?

Obi-Wan’s tongue is heavy but he parts his lips to answer, something clever to be sure, he always finds something to say.

“No, never mind.” Anakin cuts in before he could speak. There’s such decisiveness in his tone, such confidence. His former Padawan stands tall, his arms are strong and sure as he handles Obi-Wan closer, making him lean more of his weight against his chest. It’s broad and firm. Obi-Wan should not be noticing those things, should not be aware of those things. It is a further evidence that his Padawan is well and truly grown. Further evidence of his own failing as a Jedi, as a Master, as a…man. Obi-Wan should not be inhaling and smelling home. Should not be leaning closer, itching all over for more, more.

“You’re so wasted that I am surprised you’ve even recognized me at all.” Anakin continues talking, as if the universe is not shifting beneath Obi-Wan’s feet as it is him who finally looks with his gaze unbiased. “The drunken messages though, those you will be seeing tomorrow” there’s dark mirth in that dear voice. “I bet you wanted to send them to— someone else.” Anakin glances at him, eyes narrowed.

Obi-Wan’s offenses at Anakin’s assumption he could ever not recognize him dies over under his gaze, dark and rich, his eyes are captivating. Before Anakin, he did not know that a blue can hold such multitudes. Both the clear morning sky, and the moon lit sky. Beautiful. They loosens his tongue as well as any truth serum would. That or the bottle he had finished on his own finally soaked through.

“I will always—” His voice comes out so thick that he coughs, starting Anakin from his dark contemplations, whichever those might be. His eyebrows furrow and he quickly snatches a cup of something clear off of a passing robo-waitress’s tray. Irritated with the distraction, Obi-Wan accepts it and drinks if only to make way for the words to follow. He will not let it go. Not now that he’d started. “I will always recognize you, Padawan Mine, drugged, beaten, or otherwise preoccupied— I will always—” “Drugged?!” Anakin cuts in again, arms tightening around Obi-Wan and strangling the annoyed huff at being cut again “You did not mention anything about being drugged, what the kark’ Obi-Wan?!”

Obi-Wan’s mouth is dry, similar to how being drugged would feel. His mind swims and all he sees is Anakin. There’s warmth in his chest, there’s a burn in his gut, there’s a tug in his—

“It’s hard to tell” he says sheepishly, embarrassed, eyes straying away from Anakin’s strong jaw and up, up to the lights on the ceiling. He should not be thinking of how Anakin’s proximity is enough to replicate a strong drug. How out of orbit he feels around him as of late. “They all start the same, so…”

Anakin is hardly listening. Instead he is surveying the club with a look of fury that is bordering on homicidal, freeing one hand to rest it on his lightsaber. There’s the distinct feeling of Anakin stretching his force signature out, covering the room, no doubt attempting to locate anyone within their proximity who might have dared drug his former Master. Oh if only he knew that he was the culprit all along.

Obi-Wan snorts, finding an odd sense of humor in it.

Anakin’s gaze darts back to him, sharp and accusing. He looks so handsome under the colorful, dim lights. He looks so…

“Ah-nakin.” Obi-Wan sighs out and shuts his eyes lest his spinning head forces him to sober up in the most un-jedi manner.

“Stay with me,” the request comes so easy, what was it that he was so afraid of? It’s so easy, too easy. Frighteningly so, to reach and touch Anakin’s forearm. There’s skin beneath his touch, warm and human, tense muscles beneath. “Ah” Obi-Wan sighs out in realization. Anakin had rolled the sleeves, so very unofficial for a Jedi and yet so very Anakin of him.

Master Windu would have hated it. It wouldn’t surprise Obi-Wan if this was exact reason why Anakin did it to begin with, after all, he was most adept to handling heat and was not bothered by it even while all else were. Obi-Wan really should have reprimanded the boy more often, should have stopped Anakin from executing all those harmless little vendettas of his while growing up.

If only he did not find them to be so endearing, so amusing. If only he was a better Master, a proper Master. He would have.

His brain is foggy and he had already forgotten what was it it that he had hoped to achieve by touching Anakin, only that his fingers are circling his wrist and touching the spot at which he can feel his life pulsing. What a terrible habit it is, being intoxicated while negotiating. You should only ever drink enough to appear drunk, never more. How is he to get what he wants, when he has no ideas what it was?

Obi-Wan’s eyelids are heavy when he tries to blink them open and focus on Anakin. There’s the signature frown, so familiar Obi-Wan can’t help but smile. Anakin is chewing his lips, a compulsion he had never managed to rid himself of. He looks torn between the need to locate and deal with the ‘enemy’, and…. Obi-Wan.

The way Anakin looks, that should not be reminiscent of the targets Obi-Wan opts for charm as the main form of negotiation with. Should not stir the excitement of a hunt, of a game to be won. Obi-Wan should not use his looks to achieve his goals, he should not use them to get what he wants, he should be a better man than that.

Obi-wan is not a better man.

Licking his own dry lips, he let’s go off of Anakin’s wrist and reaches for Anakin’s cheeks. There’s a tremble in the touch, his, Anakin’s? He is not certain.

“Dear One, you can chase your enemies tomorrow.” He speaks in a hushed murmur, he hopes he sounds soft and alluring “Tonight, will you guard this drunk Master of yours?” he looks up, through his lashes, breathing shallowly, feeling hot, hot, hot all over.

Anakin let’s go off of the lightsaber. It’s an answer enough to what he had picked. It still is deeply gratifying to feel the boy’s hand cover his own, guide it until he wraps his arm around Anakin’s shoulders. It’s an awkward angle, with Anakin being taller than he— he cares very little for it when Anakin wraps an arm around his waist.

“Let’s go.” He is tight lipped and determined, guiding Obi-Wan out and into a speeder that is parked not far off. If Obi-Wan was even slightly more aware, he’d realize just how much attention the pair of them had draw, how all of the eyes had followed them out. Sometimes he forgets, how famous they had become during this accursed war. Sometimes, he is glad to not remember.

Anakin is terribly efficient at getting them to the Temple. One blink of an eye they’re flying through the busy highways of Coruscant, the next he is tossed unceremoniously onto a bed that feels and smells familiar. His bed.

They’re in his quarters. Their quarters until very recently. He is breathing harder and he does not dare to think of why. If he does not think, it does not exist. He is self aware enough only to feel how disheveled his robes feel on his body, how messy his hair is, how hot his skin feels all over. He is a mess.

“Dear one?” he questions. He refuses to acknowledge how his own tone drops, refuses to admit he is rolling his vowels in a way he knows thickens his accent in the most attractive of ways. He doesn’t know why he is flirting with Anakin Skywalker when the boy is barely out of his knighthood and is Anakin. His Anakin, his Anakin on whom he just looked in a way he really should not be looking at, through his eyelashes, with a heavy, wanting gaze.

The redness of Anakin’s cheeks is evidence enough that he hears and understands the situation well enough. That he is very much aware of what his Master is doing. That he is… perhaps affected.

Obi-Wan swallows, trying to push himself up to his elbows. He needs to sober up, he must tell him that he is merely jesting, that it is all a little tease, a little laugh, nothing more, just….

Anakin cuts him to it. Before he can excuse, or joke, or explain.

“Not while you’re drunk.” Anakin bites, sounding frustrated, lips swollen red from biting. Obi-Wan startles, surprised.

What did Anakin just say? Imply?

Blatantly threw straight into his face, more like.

Yes, but not while he is drunk.

Absurdly, a swell of pride fills his chest to the brim. Anakin’s manners and chivalry surprises him, pleases him. He had raised him well after all, he did not fail him, at least not in this.

His pleasure must bleed into the Force as Anakin regards him with a dark, baffled look. It’s so dark, most would find it intimidating, but for Obi-Wan it’s… dear. He can see the gentleness in that look, the care. There’s warmth in the force when Anakin insist on tucking him in, fingers methodical in the short, careful gestures. Tucking him in as if he was a child. Him, his Master. Former.

Obi-Wan was tucked in only once in his lifetime, at least as far as he can remember. His first night in the Jedi Temple. So tense he was, so out of his depth, that the he was taken pity of, tucked in with a quiet promise of everything making sense soon. It helped.

It had never happen again.

“Ahnakin.” he tries to protest, tries to pull a face of offended indigence. It’s hard to do when he is practically shining within the force. A single look from his apprentice is enough to quiet him down.

“Master.” Anakin replies, and there’s a little eyeroll there. His cheeks are still flushed but he seems as determined as Obi-Wan to not address the Bantha in the room. “You really should be more careful” he lectures him in a way Obi-Wan can distinctly remember doing a few years back, when Anakin had gotten drunk for the first time.

He leaves then, without a word. Obi-Wan’s throat closes and there’s a pang of pain in his heart. No this. He remembers now. Him. Leaving. That was the whole reason, that was why—

“Master?” Anakin sounds concerned, a glass of water and a container of what looks to be painkillers in his hands. “Are you sick?” a few strides and he is by Obi-Wan’s bed again, placing he glass and container at the bedside table. He looks well and truly worried.

Unthinking, Obi-Wan sits up. So sudden that he does feel sick from the motion. He ignores it. He reaches for Anakin’s face with both hands, cupping his cheeks with a grip that is too strong, too desperate. A Jedi should not hold onto things with such fervor.

All it takes for him to lean is to Anakin, is to stop resisting if only for a moment. Anakin’s pull was always there, stronger and stronger until it had become a daily challenge to ignore it, to pretend he does not feel it. All it takes is to stop resisting and his lips find Anakin’s, pressing against that plush softness, inhaling his exhale and finally, finally feeling anchored, inside the orbit he was always meant to circle.

He tilts his chin, leans in, knowing his beard will scratch pleasantly against the smooth jaw, kisses in deeper—

“Mahster—!” Anakin gasps into the kiss, a pang of shock and uncertainty clouding the force around them, sipping through the open nerves of their broken bond. He does not want to take advantage of his Master, does not want him to end up hating him, does not want him to wake up and be disgusted, appalled— but he wants, he wants so badly.

“Oh, Anakin.” Obi-Wan breathes out, unsure if it’s endearment of relief that fills him up with warmth, with lightness. One thing he is certain of, no one had ever been, or will be, as sweet, as kind, as dear as Anakin is to him. “I could never hate him.” There’s a drunken lisp to his voice, he needs a moment to correct himself. “You.” He manages, meeting Anakin’s eyes and not blinking, not wanting to miss a single moment. Wanting to see the exact moment in which Anakin realizes he is serious, that he is the most honest he’s been in years.

Anakin seems to be realizing it too, his eyes widening and cheeks coloring a deeper red than before, he bites his lip.

“I might be…” Obi-Wan’s gaze drops to Anakin’s lips and he thinks about… “intoxicated…” he forces himself to look up, away from temptation, away from sin. “Drugged, possibly.” He is still not fully certain if he is, or it truly is just Anakin with a touch of alcohol. “But I am very much aware that…” he smiles before completing the sentence, it widens so much further with the words to come “…my Padawan simply cannot take advantage of his Master…” there’s really no need to be using this many terms of belonging, especially when they are outdated and irrelevant, but he just cannot… “On the contrary, I am the one who should be deeply ashamed for…mnnn-”

Anakin’s lips quiet him up, he was never a patient listener, never could hear his Master finish a thought. This is the most effective he had ever been at cutting Obi-Wan’s line of thought, by far. He kisses him in a way Obi-Wan would have never guessed him capable of— it’s soft, sweet, patient. A tender thing, careful, loving. Obi-Wan gasps. Thinking, dazedly of how Anakin will grow to be an amazing lover, so attentive, a beast holding back his fangs in favor of gentle lips…

The thought sets a burning coil of arousal deep in Obi-Wan’s gut.

Not good. Beyond not good. He should….

The thought is present and yet he licks at Anakin’s lips, asking for permission. He is granted one without resistance, without hesitance. Anakin’s lips part and he can taste him and oh, oh. Obi-Wan groans, muscles tensing as he shifts to sit straighter, moving a hand to Anakin’s nape and pulling him closer.

He nearly chokes when the boy sucks on his tongue, arousal shocking him into near soberness.

“Anakin…” he knows, there’s not enough alcohol in the universe to convince him that this is not going too far, he knows and yet…

He kisses Anakin again, a little hungrier, a little more wanting.

He must stop this madness. To think that he had started it, to think that he had taken advantage of his trusting, sweet—

“No, Master.” Anakin answers, and Obi-Wan wonders just how much of his shields is truly left if his thoughts can be read so easily, so plainly. “You’ve asked me to stay, and I will stay.” That assuredness is back, firm and leaving no space for argument. This is the same man who leads men on a battlefield, who commands, who leads. Obi-Wan finds it impossibly, undeniably, devastatingly attractive.

“You will sleep.” Anakin decides then, tearing his eyes away from Obi-Wan long enough to gesture at the lights, turning them off with the force. “And I will stay with you.” His eyes land back to Obi-Wan, dark mirth dancing in what Obi-Wan can still see of him. “To keep you safe, Master.” He is teasing him, the little devil.

“How will it even…” Obi-Wan doesn’t want to mention how narrow the bed really is, Anakin would know, with his constant complaints about how leg room and…

“Don’t worry about that.” Anakin answers, confidence so cocky, so boyish that Obi-Wan huffs a surprised laughter, breaking into giggling when Anakin practically falls on top of him. They struggle like that, laughter mixing, limbs tangling, hair in a mouth and fingers against sides— Anakin captures him then, they’re on their sides, Anakin’s back is firm as he pulls Obi-Wan all the way to himself, forming….

“Absolutely not!” Obi-Wan’s voice raises and breaks a little, attempting to wriggle out of the trap he inadvertently fell into. There’s still some pride life in him. He will not permit this Jedi Knight, his former Padawan no less, big spoon him, 16 years his senior and former Master. Force be his witness, he will not allow it.

Anakin makes a suffering, exasperated exhale when Obi-Wan manages to slip out of his grip— only to be yanked back by the force. All he manages is a choked gasp of protest before the air is knocked out of him, his back hitting a firm chest a little too hard. There’s a vindictive sort of satisfaction in hearing Anakin chokes out a surprised exhale too, clearly, he did not account for the impact being this strong.

“Karkin’ hell…” he hears the boy muttering and snorts out, laughing even while Anakin wraps his mechno-arm around him, pulling him back into the not-as-offensive as before little spoon position. Fine, he thinks. He’ll allow it, just for this one night….

His eyes close and he shudders when Anakin’s nose press against his nape, he can feel the slow, deep inhale— can feel the content exhale that follows.

“Finally.” Anakin breathes out, as if he was waiting for this moment longer than the few minutes just now. Like he needed it, himself. Like it was not Obi-Wan, pathetic and alone, messaging his former Padawan while drunk beyond reason that led him here, but his own needs, own wants. Like he needed this too, him. Like he needs him. Obi-Wan.

“Oh Force…” Obi-Wan calls upon it without realizing, without meaning it. Only the force can stand witness to this moment, judge it, measure it. Guide him, tell him right from wrong. “Force.” His voice trembles with it, realizing for the first time that Anakin does see him, in truth, does and still…

“It’s fine with it.” Anakin remarks, nonchalant, amusement coloring the timbre of his voice. “You don’t have to shout at her, I don’t think she like it very much” Anakin refers to the Force differently every time, Obi-Wan suspects he does it simply for the joy of throwing off the younglings.

It unsettles Obi-Wan as well, he will not admit that much, though. Anakin’s connection with the force was always stronger, always different than anyone else’s. If he’s saying that the Force is not finding this offensive…. Obi-Wan will trust him. Anakin enjoys messing around at times, stretching the truth about how the Force works, but he’d never lie about this, not to him.

Obi-Wan’s body relaxes so completely that he practically sags into Anakin, relief, so much relief. It feels…. Good. There’s rightness to it that even without the Force humming pleasantly in his ears, he’d recognize. Like sharing a sleeping cot in the war zones, minus the blood and gore and pain… it feels secure, it feels…good….

He feels himself being lulled to what he suspects will be a long and restful sleep. Such a luxury as of late. “Mnh..” He jolts a little when a hand moves across his side, resting at his hip bone and then back up to his side. He should not permit Anakin this much leeway with him and yet…. He likes it… oh he likes it.

So he doesn’t comment it, allowing him to continue, to stroke him and care for him, and hold him. He is not leaving.

Sleep comes ease, as easy as an inhale. One moment he is aware of all that surrounds him, the scent and warmth, the weight and touch. The next he is sinking into the open embrace of rest. Distantly, he feels the touch of a Force Signature he knows as well as his own. It is the only half of it, after all. Accepting it, is as easy as breathing too.

There’s a distant shift, even in sleep he can feel the bond snapping back into place, like moons falling into a familiar route, circling a singular sun. Maybe it was not Anakin who was the sun around which Obi-wan was revolving all along, but their shared….

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vendettasfanfictioning · 6 months

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You ever cry about Castiel, taking the initiative to leave and waiting for Dean to stop him—thinking he's done enough, he isn't actually family, his past sins outweigh his good intentions or proceeding actions so it's better to go now before they snap at him to do so; and Dean, who's resigned himself to the idea that everyone is going to leave him, that it's inevitable and there's no point in asking Castiel to stay because that's the forced way to do things, that if he wanted to stay with Dean, he would.

They could have loved each other, they already fit one another so well, it's just all this miscommunication and these misunderstandings burying what they've been wanting from the very first fucking season they met.

#AND WE PARTIALLY HAVE THEIR DADS TO BLAME FOR IT #literally who the hell made dean perceive people as “should be protected/made proud” but also “will leave me at some point”#who ignored cas' pleas for help. who fucked up the writing of the story. who kept pushing cas back to the winchesters and pulled him away #ah yes supernatural: the show of daddy issues. asshole fathers and homophobia #i fucking hate it here #insane show for insane people #supernatural #spn #dean winchester #castiel #spn dean #spn cas #destiel #deancas #casdean #dean studies #cas studies

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smoosnoom · 11 months

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one of my biggest pet peeves is people in this fandom telling others how to characterize a character . like the inherent beauty of fiction and media is that the interpretations are limitless, and u want to crop that all out to the same character depiction ? don't u get bored ? don't u want to see something different ? and the especially amazing part of the internet is that if u don't like it u can just click away ! isnt that beautiful !!!

#i say this like the pretentiousness is going to stop #and some of u are just so confidently incorrect #pushing out facts from the show to pull forward ur own agenda of some stereotype or another of a character #have we considered . characters can be multifaceted #the cool thing is that chracters can be multiple things at once ! wow !#anyeay #is this mean probably #but i am fed up #i dont think most fandoms police characterization like this ever #some of u have a weird entitlement and i abhor it #/moon #byler #this is especially towards #will byers #and #mike wheeler

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sleepynegress · 6 months

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Love this interview... I have been semi-checking in on Zawe's journey since before certain stans were feeling some kinda way about her recent familial additions. I do for certain Black actors/creators especially, who seem to be moving in interesting ways in entertainment/film media...

-A remnant from a period when I used to go to screenings and blog about films (and was published a few times in a major national newspaper)... So, I knew of Zawe through the grapevine of her mentorship, i.e. she is the reason why Rege Jean Page of Bridgerton fame got to work in U.S. markets, as she sponsored him. And she is known, as one of those "good eggs" who will be accessible and help/advise especially young actors of color. ...But, I have some other stuff to say. This isn't about proving that she's an amazing human being. It's about a certain brand of misogynoir that some of these people far beneath her in self-knowledge, self-love, and just plain grown-ass-woman-personhood...keep letting fly in what they *think* are compliments, but actually are just trite microaggressions. Saying things like "as long she makes [T-blank H-blank] happy then she's alright" as if he's the centered human and her attachment renders her worthy somehow. Babies, as long as SHE'S happy. Yall. He's marrying up.

WAY UP and the fact that he knows this? Actually elevates him. She's been there.

She tells a story in the above interview that reminds me of Uzo Aduba's anecdote about her name , - of an incident when she was called to an early job (at 6!) and someone there said she wasn't pretty because of her gap and her Ugandan mother took her on past this person and into the room, ANYWAY.

... She learned a specific self-knowledge and self-love, that is necessary in very white western spaces that constantly pressures a narrow sense of worthiness and beauty, especially from Black women, something a lot of these small-minded stans don't even have a notion of seeing beyond. Zawe is biracial, and her features, aside from her skin tone are very African. So while she benefits from colorism, featurism is something I've seen those bigoted stans, pick on as well. She knows those features are what makes her beautiful and knew that, w/o and before her partner saw that too. And people who aren't blind narrow-minded ignoramuses can *also* see that. This is why I assert the fact of featurism needing to be in the conversation of light/dark privilege conversations. Lips, nose, gap, and even the set of her eyes are ethnic beauty markers within quite a few spaces in the Black African diaspora... My mom was an absolute stunner because of her gap.

Even the old school white model Lauren Hutton got there because of her gap. Uzo Aduba, who I have already mentioned has a deeper skintone and has similarly large round striking eyes, gap, and a non-pinched-nose *rightly* played Glinda in NBC's production of The Wiz a few years back, with Dorothy saying she's so beautiful *because* of those features, not despite them as a very narrow white-washed gaze would wrongly assert.

And while we're here that includes sizes and shapes too. I'm saying your boy is enjoying all that plush. A lot of yall need to read or reread Maya Angelou's Phenomenal Woman, for comprehension.

Anyway... All this to say I know Zawe is and will be fine regardless.

P.S. Maya Angelou *also* had height, and gap and was very much known for her beauty/magnetism as a woman when she was alive. :

#she's as steady in herself as ms. whoopi goldberg is and was back when ALL the comedians even some Black men were picking on her #for her African features meanwhile she pulled whoever she wanted and kept working and has her EGOT #I could also get into the notion that particularly worldly white folk with redhair are more inclined to understand #being picked apart or fetishized for a feature... and can have a leg up on empathy #especially I think when also in the spotlight #she also mentions sinead o'connor who also subverted standards and being an irish woman with her oppressive history pushed back with her ar #zawe ashton #interesting watch #meta #blah #getting ish off my chest #some of yall were comforted by the lie of a certain standard beauty being the only milkshake bringing them to yard #even beyond the misogynoir #grown ups in partnerships and marriages etc value other things and see beauty much differently when they mature.#I'm talking about grown ups some folks never grow to that point sadly #Youtube #I'm so glad she didn't quit acting #and I see TH giving his old theatre school buddies and Black women a word or boost or whatever he did.#...if he had a hand in that #love yourselves because of & not in spite of what you have going on

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girlwiththegreenhat · 1 month

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i genuinely love when you can tell an older show was Not made with high quality video viewing in mind. i am watching knight rider and constantly seeing all the little mistakes they surely brushed under the rug thinking nobody would see them on their crunchy little CRTs back in the 80s, that are huge attention grabbers now in HD fullscreen on my 3 foot computer monitor

the biggest one of course is all the drivers/controllers for the (in-universe) self driving car, kitt. there's guys tucked down in the footwells who can't always stay out of the shot. there's a guy who has a Car Seat Suit to blend in and look like the drivers seat from a distance, but you can always tell when that's the method they're using for a particular shot because its so much thicker than the passenger seat next to it and the headrest is missing it's cutout section. in at least one instance he starts taking the suit off too early, on a focus shot of the damn car, so its REAL visible.

all the extremely obvious stunt drivers or performers who look nothing like the character they're supposed to be

props, such as animals, vanishing from the car interior for stunt/race sequences.

the production crew (or their shadows) being visible in the background. only at a glance, but its especially hilarious in shots where nobody else is supposed to be around

the camera panning out from a sound stage set far enough that you can actually see over the edges of the set and into the stage they were filming in. mostly this happens with their truck trailer mobile unit thing.

this one isn't a mistake but every time the car "turbo jumps" they CLEARLY hide the ramp behind another car, a prop, the environment, and its just. so charming. sometimes its blatantly on screen just for a moment. like... of Course in real life this car isn't magically leaping 20 feet, of course its a ramp, but it's still so silly and fun to be reminded of how they were doing those stunts to begin with.

also not really a mistake but related, the bracket they keep on the front of the car for stunt work.... is just left on half the time. cuz it's a pain to take on and off.

and there are more examples that are more unique that haven't cemented themselves in my head well yet, but these are the more notable or common things i see and it's really charming. if i'm not giggling to myself noticing the "seams" and flaws and so human imperfections of your show or movie what EVEN is the point. hollywood is too flashy these days i think!

#liz blogs #knight rider #kr #tv production #1980s #television #i dont even know if this is a 'older tv' thing or if its just a knight rider thing because i've seen all of classic columbo at this point #and i think i can think of... maybe one or two times you saw the edges of a sound stage room. and thats it #i dont know Why its like this i dont know how common it is for shows of the era but i love it to bits. cannot get through an episode #with somebody without pointing out the quirky little things i notice.#y'know what hollywood really can burn there is such a great backlog of media to watch #i need to gif that guy pulling off his Seat Costume in the MIDDLE of the SHOT. that was so fucking funny. my favorite blooper so far #a lot of these have to do with kitt bc he IS a prop but its extremely funny how hard they push the 'HES INDESTRUCTIBLE' thing #and every other boost landing has the car looking like its gonna snap in fucking half like a twig. got some ROUGH landings #i wanna know how many stunt kitts they went through they really beat the shit outta those cars sometimes #i think if this show were free on streaming like columbo way more people on this site would like it it is a weirdly charming little show

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